Lie to Me
by Nuwanda
Summary: An ornery, solitary officer meets finally meets his match: a loud mouthed 17 year old who simply refuses to be ignored. A strange relationship begins, but secrets can never stay hidden long. Vaguely AU. Same setting as the series but not part of it
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Finally posting this. The title comes from a song, but I can't remember who sings it so the lyrics will be posted later.

***Anyway, this takes place two years before the anime, so there's some things you should note: Saito has longer hair. I'm not dumb, I know he doesn't have a ponytail. He does now.^^

Sanosuke is 17. That makes Saitou 32. The story is AU as in it takes place prior to the anime but does not lead up to the events in the anime. It's its own little story.d

Um....yeah.....I think that's it.....enjoy.^^

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Saito Hajime pushed open the teahouse door and paused momentarily, allowing himself a rare moment of relaxation, the wind rifling his hair as much as it could in his tightly controlled ponytail, a gentle breeze that carried on it the scent of summer, ocean, and for some inexplicable reason, a hint of promise.

Saito glowered. He didn't like this turning philosophical, and to be honest, he couldn't afford it. Not at his age and not in his line of work. He paused only a moment longer, just to pull the silver cigarette case out of his back pocket, though he really didn't need to…by now he could light a cigarette in his sleep. No doubt he would die of emphysema, or so his doctor claimed. The old codger was always insisting he quit, while Saito sat there silently steaming and telling himself that shoving a katana up the man's rectum would be in very bad form indeed. Really though, he found it highly ulikely…it seemed much more probable he would die in a ditch somewhere, throat slit, knife in his back and bleeding from multiple wounds. If they could ever get him. He prayed they would. For as much as Saito hated to admit it, on some level, he rather hoped someday he would find someone who could best him. He hated the idea of dying old and alone in bed, no hair, no teeth, shaking with palsy and a cold sweat.

Taking a deep drag on the cigarette (almost as refreshing as the night air, if not more so), Saito stepped off the porch. He didn't bother shutting the door behind him…that was what other people did, and sure enough, a bowing mistress closed the door for him, murmuring her thanks and goodbyes all the way. Saito hated her, for no real reason other than her pathetic groveling. He would have hated her if she hadn't shown her respects either…except then he probably would have killed her. It was a very thin line with Saito Hajime, a tightrope one had to walk or die trying. Most died.

Saito walked down the road, still sucking at that cigarette like it was precious life-force given by God. It was a warm night…too warm, for his liking. There had been geishas in that teahouse, swarms of geishas, crawling all over his Goddamned lap; each and every one of them hoping that with his position and power, he could afford to become danna to one of them. Which he could. The real point was that the day he attached himself to one of those money-grubbing harlots was the day he started buggering young boys.

That damn breeze floated past again, bringing paradox with it. It was the only thing cooling in this night…this damn humid night that made Saito want to tug at his too-tight collar…or worse, remove his uniform jacket all together (SHEER BLASPHEMY!). On the other hand, the breeze still carried with it that scent of promise, so Saito knew he wasn't just turning into a doddering old metaphorical philosopher, some crazy Aristotle or Socrates. Saito Hajime had been around long enough to read the winds. _Something_, he realized, _is coming._

Saito managed to ignore the feeling…almost. For feeling such as this will never go entirely away, and his sword hand twitched the whole way back to his apartment. Still, he figured he was safe for the night….time to smoke one last cigarette as he fell asleep (_maybe I'll die that way…in my sleep, when my cigarette sets the house aflame_)…and then a voice rent through the hazy and unstable peace of the humid night air.

"Hey."

Saito spun about in a flash, hand not going to his sword (he was far too confident of his own abilities to draw his sword before sizing up his opponent), but twitching again ever so slightly, ready to reach for the katana in an instant if he deemed it so necessary. He came face to face with….

….a boy. Brown hair sticking up in every direction in a way Saito would have thought completely impossible where he not looking at it himself. It reminded him instantly of a rooster. It was hard to judge the kid's age, for he looked young in the face, about sixteen or so, but he was tall, very tall, at least up to Saito's collarbone, and very very gangly.

Saito relaxed..well, as much as Saito ever relaxed. This child couldn't hurt him. "…….what," he growled irritably.

The kid's eyebrows shot up in amusement. "well, aren't we Mr. SmileyPants?"

Saito said nothing, merely stared. It should be extremely evident that he was, in fact, not Mr. SmileyPants, so what point was there in responding? The boy smiled, a very insufferably insolent smile, Saito decided.

"You got a cigarette for me?"

Saito blinked. That in itself was something. It took a great deal to make Saito Hajime lose his composure. The composure was not lost yet, but even to make him blink in surprise was something. For at that last question, the boy had leaned against a fence, his hips jutting ever so slightly forward, and ran a hand through that impossible hair, and his voice had become….yes, there was no mistaking it…._sultry. _Saito's eyes narrowed.

"Are you…..hitting...on me?"

The boy grinned, making this slightly less disturbing…but only slightly. "You betcha."

Saito stared for a few seconds longer, trying to determine the best way to go about this. Finally, he opened his mouth, pausing only a second or so before replying very slowly "No, I do not have a cigarette for you."

"Aw, come on…" the boy began whining in what he clearly thought was an adorable and winning manner.

"You aren't even old enough to smoke," Saito continued. The boy bristled.

"I'm twenty years old."

Saito snorted. "Sixteen."

The boy eyed Saito, eyes narrowed. "Nineteen."

"Yeah, in a few years, maybe."

"……eighteen!"

"Seventeen, kid, and that's my final offer."

The boy regarded Saito with new respect now, not aware that it was showing across his whole face. This man obviously knew what he was doing.

"Well," he said at last, "aren't you going to invite me in?"

Saito stared. "…..why the fuck would I want to do that?"

The boy shrugged. "Company. I know you spent the whole night with those geishas. Certainly you could use some intelligent conversation."

Saito snorted yet again. The kid had to wonder if he had bad sinuses or something. "And you think you can give it to me?"

That smile again, that damn insufferable sultry smile. "I bet there's a lot of things I could give you. Some better than others."

Saito stared. Something was off with this boy. He wasn't quite sure what it was yet, but for some reason, he had to figure out what it was. He had to get to the bottom of it. A low growl rumbled in the back of his throat and he kicked the door open to his apartment. "Get your scrawny butt inside."

"Gee, you really know how to take care of a lady."

"Don't push your luck, kid. Either go in or get lost."

Smiling a small mysterious smile, the kid moved, walking past Saito and into the house. The man sighed. _What the fuck am I getting myself into._

**-tbc-**


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Guys, I am sooooo sorry. Can't apologize enough. I was looking over my account tonight and realized that my ygall account had 2 chaps of this fic posted and this site only had 1. FAIL, Chris. FAIL. So here's chapter 2! Hope you enjoy!^^

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The instant the decision was made, Saito regretted it. As he watched the boy walk past him, through the door which he, Saito Hajime had, for some reason, kicked open, he knew that this boy was what he had that stupid premonition about, and that this encounter could lead to nothing but trouble. And yet he let the boy in and followed behind him, shutting the door and locking it. Furious with himself and the way he was acting, Saito roughly removed his jacket and practically threw it at the clothes rack, but not so forcefully that it didn't remain where he put it. There was nothing in his world that dared disobey him. When Saito Hajime placed you somewhere, you stayed put.

"So," the boy asked, standing barefoot by the door, his shoes kicked to one side. "This is where you live."

"Like you didn't know," Saito grumbled, moving over to the counter and reaching for the liquor cabinet. There was no way he'd survive this night without it. "So you've been...what? Stalking me?"

The boy was now shuffling from foot to foot, hands thrust deep in his pockets, that wild devil may care grin on his face. "Something like that. Though I'd never use such a word."

"Oh, no, of course not," Saito said dryly, setting a jug of gin on the counter. "Dazzle me with your version. What do you call it?"

"Well...I don't really have a name for it." The boy was silent for a long moment. "I just...saw you in the street one day, and...well, you made an impression." The boy stared straight at Saito, who found who couldn't actually tear his gaze away. Rarely could men his own age meet his eyes that way, and here this seventeen year old child held a steady gaze without flinching. "You just...captured me somehow. You seemed interesting."

Saito silent for a few moments. What the boy said had intrigued him, though he hated to admit it. No one had ever found him interesting before. At least, he doubted it. Not that they'd admitted. And definitely not to the point where they'd follow him home. That thought shook him out of his trance.

"So you stalked me. You know, that's a crime. I could have you arrested, boy."

"The name's Sanosuke."

"I didn't _ask _for your name," Saito interrupted, though inside he felt a little jolt in the pit of his stomach as the name reached his ears.

"Well, maybe you _should _have," Sanosuke said, but he was smiling still. "After all, that's manners."

"Yea, well I don't have any manners." Saito stepped closer, undoing the buttons on his collar so that he could breathe easier. Now he could get a better look at the boy, close enough so he could stare down at him from his nice, menacing height...the way he usually interrogated criminals, he realized. "I could arrest you right now."

Sanosuke smiled sweetly up at Saito. "You gonna?"

Saito stared down at him, trying to decide whether he should hit that smile or...he turned away. "...no." _Liquor,_ he thought. _I need some alcohol. _

"So," Sano drawled from behind him, "You're a police officer huh?" He draped his arms over Saito's shoulders. "Wanna put me in solitary confinement for the night?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," Saito spoke around the cigarette he was currently sucking down. Finishing pouring himself a glass of the hardest whisky he could find, he set the jug down and _very_ carefully removed the boy's arms from around his neck.

Two full minutes later, Sanosuke found himself able to breathe again. "Holy fuck," he managed from his newfound seat on the floor. "What the _hell _did you do that for?"

"I don't like being touched," Saito said calmly from his new seat at the table, where he had been calmly drinking his whisky as he watched the boy recover his breath and strength. "And solitary confinement means I tie you up, gag you, and toss you in a three foot wide, four foot long space overnight. That sound like fun to you, boy?"

"…no," Sanosuke admitted.

"Then next time, you'd better come up with a better pick up line, hadn't you?" Saito watched the boy out of the corner of his eye, shaking his head as he finished his whisky. "…..moron."

"So if you don't like being touched, then that's gonna make the sex _reeeeaaaallly_ difficult."

Saito sighed. "Do you think about anything but sex, you prepubescent fool?"

Sanosuke grinned, leaning his back against the wall and stretching out his legs. "…not when I look at you."

That gave Saito a moment's pause. He could understand the geisha's crawling all over him….they wanted what his position could buy them, but this boy….where was the attraction here? He was old, he was grouchy, he smoked like an entire village going up in flames, and drank like a geriatric grandfather with an ulcer and nothing to lose. "Boy, did that flight into the wall rattle your brains, or did you just have none to begin with?"

Sano laughed, rising slowly and painfully to his feet, testing out his limbs to make sure they all worked. "Well, you've got me there."

"Because in case you haven't noticed, I'm not so much of a prize here. I smoke, I swear, I drink, I have a violent temper….I just nearly threw you through my kitchen wall….my tiled kitchen wall…..and as you pointed out before with a skillful dexterity I'd have thought beyond the reaches of your pea-sized intelligence, I am not, nor have I ever been, nor WILL I_ EVER _BE, Mr. SmileyPants."

Sanosuke stared. "….you done now?"

"…..for the moment."

A smile, that still insufferable smile! "…like you anyway."

Saito couldn't control the growl of frustration that emerged rasping from his throat like a small animal was being suffocated to death there. "Moron, I'm old enough to be your _father_."

Sanosuke threw back his head and laughed. "You sure know how to sweet talk a guy." And stepping forward, he closed the small distance between them, his hands sliding flat-palmed up Saito's shoulders to wrap around the back of the man's neck. And for a few brief seconds, for the first time in his life, Saito Hajime felt helpless. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to push Sanosuke away. And then he recalled the breeze, that damn cool breeze, carrying with it paradox and promises of things coming…anyone else would have been happy, hopeful, believing good fortune to be just around the corner. Saito had known better, and as usual he had been proven right. For here he was, cornered in his own kitchen, about to be kissed by a seventeen year old roosterhead.

And then Sanosuke's lips were against Saito's and thoughts were more difficult. Saito couldn't remember the last time he was kissed and the boy's lips were soft and full. He kissed almost exactly as Saito had expected him to…awkwardly, nervously, that sweet inept elegance of uneasy youth. Yet there was something different there as well. The kiss was more than Saito expected. On some level he supposed he had gone along with it because he was expecting it to be that and that alone: a small chaste kiss from some pathetic seventeen year old who had a stupid crush on him (_God _knows why). But then Sanosuke's mouth opened and somehow he coaxed Saito's to do the same, and then his tongue traced gently across Saito's lower lip before slipping inside the older man's mouth to dance along Saito's own tongue. And Saito sat there, too astonished to do a thing but think _Holy fucking hell, where did he learn to do **that**?_

Suddenly all the anger came back. Saito couldn't believe he had let this boy kiss him at all, let alone kiss him like this. And no one knew revenge like Saito Hajime. He wrapped his arms around Sanosuke's waist, pulling the boy closer, so close that their bodies practically melded together, and for the first time he really noticed just how skinny the boy was, but he filed that away to think of later, when he wasn't out for vengeance. Sanosuke let out a little mewling sound as Saito nipped at his lip, their mouths clashing roughly together.

_'Game…..set…match….and….' _

Saito bit down as hard as he could on Sanosuke's lip, nearly splitting it in half, and that moan of pleasure turned into a cry of pain as blood spilled into Saito's mouth. With one sharp move, he spun the boy around and had him pinned to the floor, his left arm wrenched tightly behind his back, and it would be very easy with a slight movement to dislocate Sanosuke's shoulder. _'Checkmate'_

Aloud he said simply "Moron," yet again. He couldn't figure why, but the word just came so easily to his lips with this boy. "Just don't know when to stop."

Sanosuke was breathing heavily, and blood was dripping from his split lip onto Saito's dirt covered floor (he had never been much for cleaning). "Huh?" Saito asked, though Sano had said nothing. "You have something to share with the class, you stupid roosterheaded adolescent? Want to tell us all what you learned today about what happens when you try to screw men much too old for you, you fucking pervert?"

Sanosuke shifted backwards, rubbing ever so slightly against Saito and getting waves of pain through his left arm for his trouble. He let out a muffled gasp at the feeling.

"Yes," Saito said calmly. "Any more movement and you'll dislocate that shoulder. So I'd advise staying still if I were you."

There was barely the slightest of pauses. Sanosuke took a deep breath to steel his nerves. He may be a masochist (he would have to be to go after Saito Hajime; he had known this since he first laid eyes on the man), but he knew this was going to hurt like a motherfucker. Slowly, he began to turn.

Saito's eyes widened. "Boy….I told you not to move. You're going to dislocate your fucking shoulder."

"I don't see how that's your problem," Sanosuke managed through clenched teeth. He had been right; this already hurt like nothing he had ever felt. Saito was still staring at him, unable to believe the lengths this insane child would go to. And despite the pain, Sanosuke was still moving. Rolling over slowly, he was about halfway there. _One more move, _he thought, wincing. _One more and it'll pop. _Another deep breath, that tiny movement and…

A tearing sound. A ripping feeling. A burning pain in his shoulder and down his left side. And then everything went starry as Saito Hajime, underestimating his own strength, slammed the boy's back flat against the floor.

"What the fuck did you do that for?" Saito practically screeched, except for one very important fact: Saito Hajime never screeched. "Why the _fuck _did you do that?"

After several moments, Sanosuke managed open his tightly shut eyes. "OW" he said slowly. After a few tries, he managed to focus his gaze on Saito, though the man seemed to have several eyes. "Think you could do that again, on the other side?" he joked cheekily, smiling up into Saito's narrowed eyes. "Felt damn good!"

Saito stared down at him, wondering how the fuck this boy could have his shoulder dislocated and still be able to laugh about it. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

Sanosuke smiled dimly. "Sadist, meet masochist," he said, indicating each of them in turn. "A good balance, no?"

Saito's head hung despite his best efforts to prevent it and he sighed. "Dear God."

"Just admit that you want to fuck me and it'll make everything much easier, believe me."

"You are a child."

"Maybe so, but an incredibly attractive one….and extremely good in bed."

"You think so?"

"I _know _so." Sanosuke stared up into Saito's tired eyes, his own eyes narrowed with an aggression and an obvious challenge, smoldering and deadly even at his young age. "And so do you."

And somehow, amazingly, Saito did. For a moment he was silent, unable to break that gaze, and then…..: "I don't have time for this," he muttered, and moved to get up. Immediately he found Sanosuke's legs locked around his waist. He glared down at the boy. "You think that's going to stop me?"

Sanosuke grinned evilly. "I'm stronger than I look." And with one swift tug he had yanked Saito forward so that the man had landed on top of him, Saito's weight landing heavily on Sanosuke's injured shoulder and causing the boy to wince (_good, _Saito thought), their groins clashing in a way that Saito deemed totally unnecessary and inappropriate. And if he had been at all the type to blush, he would have been bright red at that moment, for he could feel Sanosuke's arousal clearly, and he was pretty sure that the arousal that he couldn't help but feel growing within himself was all too obvious to the boy. Luckily he didn't blush. This situation was humiliating enough without adding blushing into the mix.

Before Saito had time to think, Sanosuke had rolled them over, straddling Saito's hips and pinning the man to the floor, not knowing of course that there was no way he could keep Saito there. The instant Saito chose to move, Sanosuke would be nothing but a red smear on the tiled wall. However, Saito wasn't so sure he wanted to move. This situation seemed more appealing by the minute.

"See?" Sanosuke managed breathlessly, his useless left arm dangling by his side. "You're not completely opposed to the idea." And he pressed his body forward, rubbing his groin against Saito's in a way that made Sanosuke moan and nearly elicited sound from Saito as well. But the man was trained for deadly combat; he could handle sensual teenagers. Even overly erotic ones.

"You can barely even move," Saito commented. "Your left arm is useless. And yet you still expect to convince me to sodomize you."

Sanosuke bit back a noise of some sort, a moan or a gasp or a little mewl, and did some sort of thing with his hips. "Don't _tease_me. Do it or don't, but don't keep going on about it."

"I'm not finished yet." And Saito realized for the first time just how much of a sadistic bastard he really was. Torture, killing, blood death and guts, yes, all good, but this? Better than all. Beating bruising and abusing this beautiful piece of flesh above him and then teasing it and then…. he realized with a sudden jolt that he was fully intending to make love to this boy, and recalled his thoughts earlier on the geishas: _the day I attach myself to one of those money-grubbing harlots is the day I start buggering young boys._ It looked like that day had come.

No. Not geishas. He refused.

Another jolt. Not geishas, but fucking young boys was okay?

"Yo…..old man. You still with me?" Sanosuke bucked his hips against Saito's and finally elicited a response. Saito let out a "gah!" of surprise and then, hating himself for doing it and hating Sanosuke for causing it, gave the boy a light smack on the cheek.

"I'm thinking."

"What is there to think about? Just fuck me, dammit!" Sanosuke bounced impatiently in Saito's lap as he said the last bit, and a wry smile twisted across the older man's lips. Leaning up, he wrapped one arm about Sanosuke's neck and tugged the boy towards him.

"Well, if you _insist_," he murmured, and pulled the boy down for another rough kiss, which Sanosuke met a sigh of victorious content. Saito didn't bite the boy this time, but then again, he didn't have to. Sano's lip was already split and still bleeding copiously. Saito made full use of it to sap every bit of pain he could out of the seventeen year old, sucking harshly at the split lip, loving the metallic tang of blood in his mouth because he knew it meant pain, Sanosuke's pain; and damn all if the boy wasn't just moaning like some cheap whore, pressing himself closer to Saito with each kiss, each nip, mewling like some adorable kitten that was just begging for Saito to abuse it. Lord did he want to kick that kitten.

"So….how much does that arm hurt?" Saito murmured.

"Like you wouldn't belie…AHHH!" Sanosuke cried out in pain as Saito probed the already throbbing arm with one hand.

"A lot, hmm?" Saito asked, his voice a mockery of sympathy. Sanosuke glowered down at him through the pain.

"Ahh…..like you care."

"Ohh, but I _dooo_," and Saito squeezed the arm tighter, eliciting another gasp.

"_Ahhhhhh_," Sanosuke's back arched into the sensation, and then hollowed out again as he collapsed forward, head hanging so close to Saito's face that his brown hair nearly brushed Saito's cheek, so close that the older man could hear Sanosuke's pained breathing and for a moment Saito wondered if he had gone too far. "…..harder."

A wry smirk traced across Saito's lips. "Moron." With one swift motion, he flipped the boy over so that their positions were reversed and he was now sitting astride Sanosuke's waist. "You're really that much of a masochist, eh?"

The boy couldn't even speak now, could barely breathe at the pain, so he settled for a nod. "…y…yes," he finally managed.

Saito shook his head. "Let me put that back in for you," he said. "It'll make things much…. easier. Hurt like a bitch, but…." He took a hold of Sanosuke's arm, not being exceptionally careful, because he knew the boy wanted pain anyway, and with one swift sharp motion, he popped the shoulder back into its socket. Sanosuke bit his lip hard to hold in the cry of pain, only succeeding in hurting himself worse as he reopened the cut on his lip, which began bleeding anew. Saito sighed.

"You're such an oaf." Leaning forward, he gently licked the wound. His hands slid up Sanosuke's body, one hand slipping underneath the boy's shirt to trace along his chest, all taught muscle and frailty, and he realized again how thin the boy was. "…and you're too skinny."

"…I can hardly see what that has to do with anything," Sanosuke wouldn't look Saito in the eye; instead he ran his tongue along the man's jawline, rough and unshaven as it was. Saito let him do it as he pondered the situation. He didn't like being put off, not by anyone, especially not insolent children. On the other hand, he could always raise the question again later, when they weren't in the process of…..

Sanosuke had apparently been working all this time with the catches on Saito's pants, unnoticed, for now he suddenly slipped one hand beneath the waistband and Saito started in surprise. He would have to raise the question later.

Sanosuke found himself stopped before the action could even be started, his hand caught in a viselike grip and Saito Hajime glaring at him. "Just what do you think you're doing?"

Sanosuke grinned. "Hopefully sucking you off, in the next few seconds."

Saito stared. He hadn't been expecting this, hadn't been expecting this at all. But then again, he wasn't really expecting any of this, didn't even know what to expect in the first place. He had only ever had one experience of this sort, and it wasn't the type of thing he liked to look back on. Still, he had come to expect that the uke would be the receiver, as the word suggested….he assumed he'd be the one doing most of the work, and now here this boy was, wanting to….wanting to….

"What, you don't want me to?"

"….I'm _thinking_."

"Like to do that, don't you?"

"You should try it sometime, moron; might find it agrees with you. Though I doubt it." Saito pondered the situation, and the hand that wasn't restraining Sanosuke began absentmindedly running up and down the boy's chest underneath the shirt, lightly at first and then with increasing pressure. It was an interesting situation, to be sure, and he couldn't quite figure what he wanted to do.

While Saito thought, Sanosuke was finding it increasingly difficult to think coherently at all, while the older man sitting astride his hips began roughly kneading his chest and waist. Saito had strong hands, a soldier's hands, and it felt good, so very good.

Saito mapped out the planes of Sanosuke's chest as though he meant to memorize them, as though by touching every inch of flesh he could brand it all onto his fingertips, rewrite his fingerprints as though they had never existed. Become a nameless faceless nobody, vanishing into the night away from all responsibility.

Sanosuke didn't know how he managed to move while Saito's hands worked him over like that, let alone sit up, but somehow he did. Dark narrow eyes focused on him suddenly. "What are you doing?"

Sanosuke crawled on his knees until he was mere inches from Saito, slim fingers reaching again for the older man's pants. "Come on," he whispered. "Let me. You'll like it...I can promise you that."

"Is that so?" Saito's brow was arched in disbelief, but he was already leaning back as he asked the question, hips lifting ever so slightly to allow Sanosuke to tug the slacks down. "And what if I don't?"

Sanosuke grinned. "Comes with a money back guarantee."

Saito couldn't help but laugh at that, the sound rumbling deep in his throat and causing Sanosuke's blood to burn hot and pulsating heavy through his veins. "You only _wish _I was paying you for this."

There was the slightest hitch to Sano's breathing, his fingers pausing trembling at the bend of Saito's thigh, then: "...no, I don't wish that."

The answer confused Saito, but before he could question it, slim fingers danced across his flesh and then he felt hot breath before Sanosuke's mouth was on him and damn. _Damn damn damn. _The boy had just barely gotten started and already he was better than any woman Saito had ever had the misfortune to have been with. His head tipped back slowly until it thudded heavily against the floor, eyes sliding shut.

Sanosuke was surprised that he had gotten so little resistance from Saito...after all the other complaining and fighting and for God's sake, the dislocated shoulder (though he supposed that was really his fault), the fact that Saito gave into him this easily on the blowjob was surprising. Not that he wasn't grateful...not when Saito looked so pretty, so Godammned pretty with his head tilted back, eyes slitted shut just like a cat, and Sanosuke had never seen him look so relaxed. And yet he was tense, too, his hands clenched tightly one second and then loose, fingers scrambling briefly across the floor, searching for a hold on something before, seeming to realize that what they were doing was unbecoming of a man of Saito's status, retreating back into their tightly coiled fists. Saito's stomach was taut and quivering with the sensations coursing through his body. The entire picture was beautiful to look at, and Sanosuke did as much as he could (which wasn't much, considering how he was otherwise engaged).

Saito's mind was racing, which was impressive in view of the amazing work that Sanosuke was doing down below. He was in a daze, unable to focus on any one thing. Most all of the questions dealt with a why? _Why is this boy here? Why did I let him in? Why does he find me so fascinating? Why is he doing this for me? _But none of the questions held sway for too long, as all kept coming back to the one main question of "where the merry fuck did he learn to use his mouth like THAT?"

For Saito realized now that he should have seen it earlier: Sanosuke's lips were positively sinfully beautiful. Absolutely made for doing deliciously dark deeds. The proof was right here, in the way they moved, in every hot slick wet motion they made.

And then there was a sudden rush of feeling and Saito's mind went curiously blank and he couldn't think anymore, but he was vaguely aware of the fact that he had to bite his lip very hard to keep from crying out as he came.

He lay still for several moments, waiting for his breathing to even and his mind to settle. He didn't have long to think, though, before Sanosuke crawled into view, his own breath very ragged and a wide grin on his breathless face. "...well?" Sanosuke demanded eagerly. "The opinion is? Is a refund demanded?"

Saito couldn't help but laugh despite himself. "No, no refund will be necessary. I'm quite satisfied. Though I don't think," he began, stretching, "I'm going to feel like moving anytime soon."

Sanosuke laughed. "Good. That was my goal. Tire you out and score myself a pillow in the process." And he stretched his long body over Saito's and then collapsed, setting his full weight down on the older man. Saito noted that the boy was as light as he looked. _Too damn skinny_, he thought yet again.

"No way," he objected. "If there is one thing I am NOT, it is..."

"...Mr. Smiley Pants?" Sanosuke interjected, grinning. Saito suppressed a smile.

"Yes. But I was going to say 'a cuddler.'"

"Oh, that's fine. You don't have to do any cuddling. I'll just cuddle you."

"That's not acceptable either!" But Sanosuke just laughed, and Saito couldn't help but smile, and he knew this was a battle earlier that night, one he lost when he first let the boy into his house. "Fine, fine, sleep on top of me. But if you drool on me, I'm going to sock you one, moron."

Sanosuke laughed. "Fair deal." And before Saito could register what was happening, Sanosuke had kissed him square on the mouth.

"Goodnight, Saito," Sanouske said, still smiling that insufferably happy smile.

"Eh..." Saito grumbled, "...goodnight."

Hours later, Saito was still awake, with a soundly sleeping Sanosuke sprawled across his body. The teenager's lithe frame was still coated in a fine glistening sheen of sweat and a peaceful smile graced his lips, a look on his face of complete contentment, a look Saito wasn't used to seeing, a look of almost...relaxation? Trust? A sound combination of both, it was obvious, and the shock and amazement Saito felt was like having ice water dumped on him. Saito Hajime never relaxed, and people rarely relaxed around him; those who did were fools. This boy was certainly a fool..._moron_, he thought somewhat affectionately, gazing at that messy hair...but he was an honest fool. He wasn't prone to the preening and posturing that all the rest of those imbeciles seemed to love so dearly. No, unlike the rest of the world, Sanosuke didn't take himself seriously. Sure, he had pride...sometimes undeserved, Saito thought with some amusement...but Sanosuke knew that he wasn't overly bright. Streetsmart he may be but genius he was not. And he was okay with that. Sanosuke would never die old and rich with a harem of beautiful women at his every beck and call (a thought which gave Saito a twinge of something undistinguishable, something very like jealousy, something which made im extremely uncomfortable and which he pushed quickly away)...but he was doing just fine on his own.

Of course, Saito didn't trust people either...so that brought up the whole new question of whether or not to trust the boy's seeming trustworthiness. But Saito didn't want to think about this...it was giving him a headache.

Instead he found himself softly and gently running his hand flat-palmed over the very tips of Sanosuke's impossible brown hair. It was surprisingly soft and tickled his skin; his hand twitched involuntarily.

And in a surprising show of affection, Saito pressed a kiss to the boy's brow (right alongside a thin trickle of blood, just over a purplish bruise he could already see swelling there) and, wrapping his arms more tightly about the frail frame of the boy atop him, Saito managed at last to fall asleep; and despite (or maybe because) his dreams were full of flashing-eyed roosterheads, it was the most relaxing sleep he could recall having had in years.

**-tbc-**


End file.
